Friday, 21 July 2017

0615: Woke up the Sun, full three nanoseconds late. Threatened to fire it and replace it with a giant LED. It offered Rajininamaskar though.

0620: Fed eucalyptus leaves to Corny and let it roam in my garden before sending it back to the basement park. Imagine the mayhem if someone sees my pet unicorn.

0645: Went for a walk, the air is so toxic. Breathed in filter mode, knitting my nasal hairs into a thin screen which allows only oxygen in. Sneezed out lumps of crystalised argon. How do ordinary people even breathe?

0715: Had good sparring with Yetim. Five years ago, I absentmindedly climbed Mt Everest and found the orphan Yeti there. Only Anil Kapoor has more hair per inch.

1000: Missed the 9 a.m. pill, so had to time-travel. Memory playing tricks. The other day could not recall the entry on page 456 of Encyclopaedia Britannica Volume 33.

1300: Completed morning shooting. Director was yet to script the climax. I told him to shoot my cigarette stunt and take it backwards from there.

1400: Took a nap. A beautiful dream saw me.

1500: Swallowed some sun-rays. I absolutely mean it when I say light snacks.

1600: Called a press conference and made emphatically ambiguous comments about joining politics. Great fun, watching media, especially those in Delhi, run like a headless chicken.

1700: Signed film against Aaradhya Bachchan. Also tweeted my resolve to fight nepotism in showbiz.

Thursday, 29 June 2017

This is in response to your advertisement for the post of Head Coach, Team India. Kindly convey my sincere thanks to Anil Kumble Sir, for creating a vacancy when the job market is shrinking like hemline in summer.

I don't really know why he quit but can make an educated guess that he paid the price for trying to be the Greg Chappell from Bangalore.

I heard he was determined to bring Virat's meeting with Anushka strictly under the FTP.

Being an ICC Cricket Committee member, he also insisted that Virat mouthed only MCC-approved, gender-neutral expletives. Apparently, he was mortally scared of having to say "Only one team is abusing in the true spirit of the game and it's not India."

A renowned wildlife photographer, he reportedly sought BCCI approval to drop Axar Patel in front of a starving lion in Gir to capture the beast's yawn.

While I don't boast a record like Anil sir, I have none of his eccentricities either.

I think the first attribute of a good coach is vision and mine is 20/20. I'm attaching the ophthalmologist's report corroborating it. Unlike Anil Sir, I can see the writing on the wall.

My biggest strength is that I've never coached any team in my life. I'm attaching endorsement letters from eight clubs confirming they never considered me worthy of the job.

My inexperience means existing ideas have not polluted or confined my views, and that I won't be just recycling the standard coaching practices to justify my salary. No.

As someone with no knowledge of cricket coaching, my ideas are naturally fresh, completely unbiased and potentially revolutionary.

It may shock the players initially but that's how all revolutionary ideas kick in -- with a bang and not whimper.

Unlike Anil Sir, I have a better idea of what the job entails. Trust me, I have no illusion about the job.

Players at this age don't need a coach. What they need is someone who is decent at baby-sitting. For instance, I've noticed players like Shikhar Dhawan tour with the entire family in tow.

I can look after the kids while their dads play and moms shop. I'm attaching endorsement letters from neighbourhood moms who'd vouch for my baby-sitting skills. I don't want to brag but I can change diaper blindfolded and with one arm tied behind my back.

I can even take their wives/girlfriends to shopping, in an "elder-brotherly" manner, if you know what I mean. I'm great at haggling and can get them the best deal anywhere. I'm attaching letters of endorsement from three exasperated shopkeepers to support my claim.

I know bit of cooking as well. So, for instance, if Rohit Sharma wants a bowl of noodles and walks out to bat, I can serve it piping hot when he returns.

I understand the job requires thick skin and I blush to inform that daily hundreds of mosquitoes blunt their precious proboscis trying to suck my blood. I'm attaching a clinical profile of the skin to support my claim.

As for mindset, after a decade of marital bliss, I'm clinically immune to criticism, sarcasm, humiliation and outright insults.

I read Anil Sir was the 'alpha male' in the dressing room. Kindly tell Virat that I'm ready to be the 'omega male' and he should not worry.

Sirs, in keeping with the demand of the job, I'm ready to feel unheeded and unwanted, and ridiculed behind my back.

If I understand it correctly, you are looking for a high-profile good-for-nothing, who should assiduously twiddle his thumb while the captain calls the shots.

I understand as Head Coach, my job would be to front the media after crushing defeats and dust the captain's chair before he addresses news folks post-victory.

Without further testing your presence, I believe I've strongly demonstrated that I have a crystal-clear understanding of the job.

Please find attached my CV. Should you need any further information, just give me a miss call and I'll call you back.

Topping exams is the easiest thing when you have none of these distractions, which is why I don't get teary-eyed when I read about a rickshaw-puller's son cracking IIM or a daily labourer's daughter acing IIT.

The truth is, these poor kids have an unfair advantage over their rich cousins in terms of motivation.

They have the greatest motivation to succeed, for the result can potentially alter the standard of their life beyond their wildest imagination.

In contrast, a billionaire' s son enters the exam hall knowing fully well that education can't really lift his lifestyle. There is simply no incentive for him, just no motivation at all.

That they still take the pain to reach the hall and write paper is, you'd agree, utterly commendable.

So dear poor kids who just topped an exam, I'm not impressed.

The unpleasant truth is - the game of exam is blatantly rigged in your favour and your success, sorry to say, is pre-ordained.

In fact I'd go to the extent of saying that poor kids have no excuse for failure, as simple as that.

As for me, my heart bleeds for the rich kid who is mourning his low grade by smoking weed in a friend's place, befittingly rolling the stuff in his mark sheet and watching it burn.

We will complete this 20 KM journey in about one hour and 45 minutes, provided we survive detours, demonstrations, breakdowns, road rages, accidents and arson by agitators.

We may also reach the final destination in flat 15 minutes, provided we have a bus of the same route number hot on our heels.

In that case, you may have to get down at a destination of our choice, kindly cooperate. Also, chances are we might have to offload you bang in the middle of the road. Make sure you don't get run over by traffic from behind, just to give us a bad name.

This vehicle, which was serviced last in the 15th century, has one front door and there's another at the back. In case of emergency, the resulting stampede is likely to take you near the door. Again, try not to fall and get trampled on by fellow passengers just to give us a bad name.

In case the air inside gets fetid, kindly look at everyone suspiciously and accusingly even if you're the culprit.

Those standing, kindly hold on to the strap overhead. If you're vertically challenged, you can also grab someone's bag straps, and anything for that matter, to maintain balance. Everything is fair in love, war and state transport buses.

Remember inside the bus, you can get away with anything by just saying 'sorry'. So, if you have just crushed someone under your feet, be nice and say 'sorry'.

Also remember, getting toes squashed is commonplace, so kindly don't blow it out of proportion.

For those lucky enough to get seat, remember there will never be a consensus on how much the window should be kept open. Views will differ, so wait until the other guy has dozed off before you can quietly adjust the window to your liking.

Remember, buying ticket is not optional, though your conductor Bhola Singh, with a rolled hanky under my collar, is open to negotiations.

Currently we're moving at a break-neck speed of 500 cm/hour, which is roughly the speed of an arthritic snail which has just undergone a knee cap replacement. This is due to a marriage procession ahead of us. You'd probably be tempted to slap the groom on horse once he's under your window but we advise utmost caution.

For those sitting on the right, the view may not rival the grandeur of pyramids in Egypt but you can look out of your window and marvel at the splendid pile of municipal garbage. If you feel like puking, kindly stick your head out but make sure you don’t get your head smashed by an overtaking bus. It would give us a bad name.

Those on the left need not despair. Thanks to the jam, you’re strategically positioned to appreciate the overflowing public convenience just outside your window. If you feel like fainting, do intimate the fellow passengers.

Meanwhile, our checkers will soon begin ticket inspection. If you haven’t bought your tickets yet, you may end up paying double the money as bribe to get away from their clutches. I can give you a better deal, so contact your conductor Bhola Singh, with a rolled hanky under the collar.

Ladies and gentlemen, we’re finally about to reach the destination. We appreciate you had many choices but you still decided to suffer at our hands.

On behalf of driver Mahadev Singh and conductor Bhola Singh with a rolled hanky under collar, we hope to serve you again.

Thursday, 13 April 2017

And in that sea of things that don't, right at the top is the self-righteous outrage that follows every time a cash-for-vote scandal erupts.

Having looked at it from all angles, it seems a splendid idea, especially if you are a citizen.

If your vote fetches you a couple of thousand bucks, what's the harm?

I hate to break it to you that your vote doesn't count anyways. The EVM is rigged and the outcome fixed. It's a funny game where the candidate you vote for will win or lose without your ballot. Relax and sit back, your vote does not matter.

Other than the mandatory selfie-with-inked-finger, it counts for nothing.

So if a political party wants to pay you a few thousand bucks for that useless thing, why not sell it?

In fact, if you slightly enterprising, you'd auction your vote and go for the highest bidder.

Once the money has reached your pocket, you can urge fellow citizens: "Be a responsible citizen, go out and vote. Trust me, it pays."

Once legalised, cash-for-vote would go a long way in drawing more and more citizen out of their drawing room and near the polling booth. Isn't it what the government is trying to achieve - to get maximum number of people to vote?

Those who oppose is are simply cuckoo. If a party wants to buy your vote, seal the deal. This is the only time a politician will actually GIVE you something, dammit! Once poll is over, his family is his constituency.

Don't be a chump. When the sun is shining, there's lot of sense in hay-making.

There's also a serious reason why you should charge for your vote. Experience tells us people don't value anything that comes free. If you expect the crook you elected would be grateful for your vote, you need to get your head examined.

It's tough for a politician to feel any such emotion towards a bunch of lambs who are nuts enough to vote for him so he can loot the exchequer.

Make it give-and-take. Isn't it at the heart of market economy?

Often, the outrage against cash-for-vote is led by frustrated people who could not sell their own vote and are now plain jealous because some other people have.

Democracy has traditionally been a case of survival-of-the-richest. It's a game loaded in favour of the richer party in the fray. My point is, if the citizens gain something in the process, where's the problem?

And don't even mention ethics/honesty. These are vague terms coined by self-pitying losers, who needed something, even if intangible, to feel good having lost the real battle in life.

Also, you can't redeem ethics/honesty at restaurants and shopping malls.